The Winter's Thief
by blackeyedbandit
Summary: AU: Somethings happen for a reason. Somethings happen just because you're just an unlucky bastard. At least that's what Gendry Water thinks when he realized he unintentionally stole a princess from Winterfell.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: sorry this story idea has just been there! I have no clue where it's going but it's mainly for laughs. it's not a huge priority at the moment so don't take it too seriously. It will be really unoriginal perhaps a bit cheesy...I have a feeling the rating will change to M and when it does i will have a little melt down and ask where my life is going. SO ENJOY!_

Chapter 1:

He had not planned on stealing one of the princesses of Winterfell. It wasn't even premeditated- at least not on his part. The girl was now I sitting beside him in the front of his wagon arms crossed and eyes forward, set on something unseen by him or anyone but her.

"I'm a dead man you know." He finally said after a long drawn out silence. He stole cheap glances at her watching to gauge her response. She didn't look at him only, if it were possible, farther into the forest. He thought she was about to ignore him as was acceptable of someone of her blood and rank.

"The only thing that will get you killed is your girlish tittering nerves." He knew she was right but he also saw the strain her jaw as she tried to force the both of them to see her logic.

He had been sent to Winterfell to fill the void left by the bedridden blacksmith, Mikken, until he was in better health. In that time he had not ever formally met any of the disgraced former King's Hand's children, only glimpses here and there and less of the only daughter. She was not the only daughter as Mikken had told him but rather the second and second thought of her mother but with the eldest in the capital being primed for marriage to prince Joffrey, Lady Catelyn had to focus on the more difficult of her daughter. The girl constantly kept close to the tumbles of her mother's skirts with her head down and a fresh sulk. He hadn't thought much of what hid behind those sulks not even when she would coolly regard him with her wintery grey eyes. He was trained to keep his head down. If he had lifted his eyes once, maybe he would have seen.

"Do you even know where you are going?" he tried again, poorly hiding his vexation.

"King's landing." She through out mechanically but then she turned to look at him her those too sharp eyes, " But not yet." And then she looked forward.

He realized he was still looking at her, in some sort of after spook, as the wheels of his cart unassuradly conquered some rocky ground and made him bit his tongue.

"AH FUCK!" and she smiled.

They stopped for the night near a small clearing on a shallow river's shore. He had set some snares for fish only to watch them sail down the river's path. The princess snorted and went into the satchel she had brought with her. She had filched quite a bounty of food so he went and started a tiny fire where they sat in unresolved conflict and indecision. She was watching the fire which caught her eye as any flame on steel. She had a strength about her that he couldn't quite place.

"Why is it that highborn lady comes to hide in my ol' cart?" He asked, not unkindly. He felt the heaviness of this social offence even if she chose to look away. Highborn lady were not supposed to talk with let alone travel with bastards of no noble birth. He still felt the chill from finding her curled under a rough burlap blanket in his wagon, soot covering her pretty face and her hair the perfect site for a bird to land in. They had never spoke at the castle and if not for her tendency to walk the small town square he might not have ever seen her, though she stuck out like a sore thumb. She was a rather strong-willed girl and would often be the source of some joke. He remembered how well she swore with the stable boys or how she always offered to help the butcher with the meat carvings. She didn't sit inside with the other gentlewomen she would rather buzz around with the dogs chasing behind her. Mikken had told him that she was sent back to Winterfell as a sort of punishment for something that happened between her and the prince. Gendry hadn't realized how much he had actually followed her. His was more aware of her then he had first imagined and with her so close with no lady mothers, or measters.

" She was going to marry me off. She was hiding it from me but I saw the letter." She wrapped her shawl tighter around her. It was rather worn looking and he figured that she stole it from a maid. He didn't quite understand her explanation though.

"Isn't that what ladies do?" the punch came unannounced and unsuspectingly to his arm. It was like being hit with a snowball no real pain but a certain amount of shock but he knew he had hit a sore spot.

"I will never be a lady!" She shouted. She stood up and paced a while , trying to calm herself. He watched as she tried to sort it out in her head. He could see she was scared." I never wanted to be a lady," she finally admitted looking down at her dress, " I hate dresses and stupid needlework and manners and stuck up little lords!"

" I suppose that might rub some the wrong way." He offered, easing onto his elbows. She looked at him with disbelief but then sat down beside him, arms wrapped around her knees.

" She wants me to be like Sansa but I can't sing, dance or sew." She bit her lip waiting for him to say something prophetic. He found if funny that a princess was turning to a lowborn blacksmith for advice and not some Septon, she must have taken too many winters, her brain must have froze.

"Did you meet you're little husband?"

" I could easily beat him to a pulp." She muttered darkly, a little smile threatening to peak.

" Sounds like a good marriage." He laughed. He saw all amusement leave her face. He was expecting her to hit him again or stomp off in a hissy but she did neither.

"What do you plan on doing then?" _what did he plan on doing?_ By now he was a man grown only looking for a town to settle in. The money he had made from his stay in Winterfell could open a reasonable shop and eventually finding himself a wife. He looked at lady Arya again. She was looking at him, challenging him to speak.

"S'pose what all blacksmith's do- smith."

She didn't add anything witty to that. Perhaps m'lady was tired of speaking with the lowborn blacksmith. She grabbed some bread ripped off two hearty chucks, throwing the one at him. He nodded as thanks and took a bite.

"We'll need a story if we'll be travelling together. Does anyone know you in Torrhen's Square?"

"Not since I was four." He could hear the excitement in her voice and he mentally cursed himself.

"Alright. You can come with me but you follow my lead. You're not a lady anymore."

"I never was!" She laughed, a total transformation from the sulking and cold attitude of before. Damn. Now he really couldn't say no. Pretty girls were such a pain in the ass. He was most likely just another dumb sop playing right into her plans.

"Good. We're sleeping on the ground." He commanded, throwing some peat on the fire to let it sleep too before throwing himself unto his side. He shuffled to get comfortable when he felt her at his back. "What are you doing?" He hissed.

"Keeping warm stupid." She wiggled her back against his and snuggled deeper into her shawl. Before he knew it she was breathing evenly and gone to the world. Gendry wished he could sleep that easily but somehow he kept having images of the Northmen hunting for his head.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: HAPPY THANKSGIVING! Chapter two. I decided to have omni narrative tada! can't wait for the next chapter. PLEASE BE KIND AND REVIEW...It makes those days when I say 'why don't I do something productive" less occurring. :P **

**ENJOY!**

Arya woke up with the sound of breathing in her ear. It took a moment to remember that she had indeed run away from home and was now travelling with the blacksmith Henry or Gerald?

The sound of birds chirping the river splashing towards some unknown destination woke her. That and his hand on her stomach. She didn't want to move and wake him up but stillness was never her strength. She very carefully pulled his arm away trying her damnedest not to disturb him. She froze when he shifted and his leg plopped over hers. Taking a moment to reanalyze the situation, Arya squirmed from under him on knees and elbows, no longer caring if she woke the dumbass up. When she finally escaped, despite herself, she found herself looking at the blacksmith and smiling. He looked dumber when he was asleep.

On light booted feet, she walking into the bushes to make her water. In skirts it was ridiculous and in the way. She grabbed two fistfuls of skirt and let out an irritated growl. Why had men gotten it so easy? She should have been born a boy, in most cases she was better than a boy. She was quicker, smarter and tougher.

She heard the horses quickening towards their camp. Gendry was just waking up and looked rather confused. The men were from Winterfell she could hear their voices. She stayed covered and watched. Gendry got up and looked towards them as he pulled some bread out of her bag. She clamped her jaw tightly.

"Morning to you, there, boy." Samson said all cordially. She saw him relax as the sight of the blacksmith. She supposed you had to like or at least trust the man making your swords. Perhaps they drank together. Whatever the case she watched on with curious eyes.

"And to you, ya old fart." He tossed back. "How can I help you? I'm not at a forge as you can see."

Some of the men laughed including Samson, adjusting himself on his horse while surveying the campsite.

"Some son of a whore stole Lady Arya Stark." He and the others sobered at this. Arya felt her heart stop as she listened more closely. They were so close. She was lucky that they didn't bring dogs with them or she would surely be found out.

"The poor lad. She's wild isn't she? A day with her and he'll be begging for Lady Stark to take her back."

At this they all laughed and Arya felt hot indignation cover her face.

They waved him off and trotted away. Arya waited still not sure if they might come back to exchange useless banter with the blacksmith.

"You can come out now."

And she did, moving to her bag and grabbing a handful of walnuts. She really had packed a lot of food all stuff that didn't require much thought. Somewhere at the bottom was a lemon tart and a dull knife, the only thing she could find to use as a weapon. No coin to her name, that was when she remembered the village girls talking about the new blacksmith. Between the stupid giggles and gushes she caught that he was leaving soon to start his own forge. If it wasn't for her stealing supplies in the kitchen she would have never overheard those silly girls and never thought to hide in the back of Gerald's wagon.

"I don't think we 'ave ever properly met." He had his back to her and loading their stuff into the wagon.

It was true they hadn't. Her mother would have wrung her neck if she stepped anywhere near the filthy forge. Mikken had already learned to keep his eyes out for her and never leave anything out for her to filch. She had given up on stealing from the blacksmith- besides there were usually things in the stables or dining hall for her to amuse herself with. As she got older, it became harder for her to sneak around the weaponry and armor carelessly abandoned by the men.

"S'pose there's no real proper way to meet a little lady when she hides in a lowly blacksmith's wagon." the edge in his voice was interesting but it was his words that caught her.

"You can't call me that! Not ever!" She grabbed his shoulders and looked into his eyes. He needed to understand. If not that she hated being called a lady but calling her one while she was dressed like a common girl would draw unwanted suspicion.

She was shocked by the redness of his skin at being caught off guard by her. A lot of people were. She was quicker then most people. He kept looking at her until he couldn't and then at his feet.

"Then what should I call you?" His voice sounded strained and he couldn't look her in the eyes. She realized she was standing in his space, possibly scaring him based on his look. It was the same look a man would give her father before sentencing. Father… that salty feeling hit her chest and she looked away.

"It doesn't matter …just not Milady."

"And not Arya." He said soberly. Arya was shocked to hear her name on his lips. She somehow assumed he didn't know her name, or at least, not without her title in front of it. It sounded nice.

"How about Nym?" He offered.

Arya looked up at him. How the hell did he know Nymeria's name? She must have expressed this throught well enough.

"Everyone know the wolf's name. Hearing you or your siblings shoutin' 'Nymeria! Nymeria!"

He didn't have time to laugh as he fell forward, face hitting the ground. She probably should have told him that Nymeria was following them but she had hoped maybe she could hide her from him. Hide a massive 6 foot direwolf.

Arya ran to them and began pulling Nymeria off the blacksmith, ignoring the obvious fact that a girl her size could not pull a direwolf of Nymeria's size. The poor blacksmith blanched when Nymeria put her nose to his neck.

"Nymeria, get off of Gerald, Now!" And she did.

The blacksmith just lay there, on the ground, sprawled with a stunned look that was slowly thawing into indignation.

Arya leaned over him and stretched her arm.

"Here, let me help-"

"Gendry."

"What?"

He got up, refusing her help and was visibly shaking. Arya was sure he was about to explode but she had to hold her ground.

"I'm not Gerald- I'm Gendry and I did not agree to bring a massive wolf with me- Gods ! Don't you think they'll put it together when we walk into Torrhen's Square?! A direwolf- the Stark sigil!"

His face was so red Arya was sure he would pass out. She hoped he would and give her some time to think.

"Nymeria is here to protect me. She's my friend. I'm not going to leave her in Winterfell!"

Something flashed across his face. Arya lowered her voice and kept her hand tangled in Nymeria's fur.

"Please, she won't be much trouble."

"Fine. She doesn't enter any towns or villages. She stays hidden."

Arya felt relief wash over her. She would be getting closer to Kings Landing and her sister. She could feel the justice she crave becoming real.

When they finished putting everything in the wagon and eating some walnuts and a heel of bread, they began on their way to Torrhen's square.

Arya sat in the front of the wagon now, beside Gendry. He was so much taller than her and he looked so much stronger. She wished she could be like that sometimes. She often wondered if she was a boy if her father would be proud, if her mother would stop worrying when she ran through the staples and went for the largest steeds. If perhaps people would take her seriously. If she could save them. But these thought rarely did her any good and she knew it. They always were ruined by that tiny logical voice in her head that told her it was impossible and then she was left feeling bitter and worst of all useless.

The village came into sight by late afternoon. The stone walls were cold looking and ancient though nothing to the walls of Winterfell. In each corner were stone square towers.

The guards at the gate came to meet them and check their wares. They raised their eyebrows at the amount of steel in the back of the wagon.

"I'm here to do some smithing. Just finished with Mikken."

Arya felt a bit of panic that he let slip they were from Winterfell. Surely by now Measter Luwin had sent out ravens warning at the northmen that the youngest daughter of their siege lord was missing.

"Can't say there's much work for ye. Martyn's not kept too busy to need a second smith."

Gendry frowned and then glanced at Arya.

"s'pose you don't know a good place to stay?"

The guards let them on their way and sent them to the stables to leave their horse to be cared for by some of the stable boys. They walked to the smithy which was more for horse shoes than anything else. A few farmers would come up looking for their tools to be sharpened. Arya assumed with wasn't as important a job as Gendry was looking for. Still they went to talk to Martyn, who was only a few years older then Gendry, though he had more of a belly on him.

Arya tuned them out as she walked around the smithy examining everything she could get her hands on. There wasn't much to excite her. The few swords left out were just swords. There was a scattering of horseshoes about. She could see where the man slept and it was a messy straw bed. She found a roughly constructed table full of tools. There was a crude looking hammer that reminded her of the stories her father would tell of the late king Robert. It was heavy, she had to left with both hand and even then she couldn't quite hold it easily.

" Thank-you for your time, Martyn."

Gendry pulled the hammer out of her hands and put it back.

" Come in whenever you feel the need to use the smithy." Martyn said pleasantly enough. Martyn looked at her hesitantly, like she was holding fire perhaps.

They said there goodbyes and Gendry led her out rather more forcibly than usual.

"What are you doing?" she hissed. She wasn't one for being led.

"Getting you away from Martyn."

Her heart stopped. She didn't know any Martyns but maybe he had seen her in Winterfell of heard she was missing. That would explain why Gendry seemed so tense.

"Why? Does he know who I am?"

"No but he nearly died watching you touching all his stuff."

Arya sighed. It was nothing. Gendry was just being dumb.

"That's dumb, It's just stuff."

…

"Just stuff?" He mimicked. She watched his nostils flare and folded her arms over her chest. He was so built up with stress it was ridiculous.

"Well I was tired of listening to you two. I was just looking."

"With your hands."

"Fine. I will refrain from touching his stuff." She pouted.

She was getting tired and bored and therefore crankier. She liked to think herself as tough as a wildling, but sleeping on the ground for the first time was not something she was yet used to.

The sun was heavier in the sky and the shadows were getting bigger as the candles from houses spread further.

"We need to get a room."

They found a place that Martyn told them about. From the outside it looked rather comforting. The place was made of wood with cement glazed over.

"The thief o' wildlings." She read, unimpressed. Gendry and her exchanged alook before entering.

* * *

It was getting colder. He could tell by the puffs of air leaving his lungs. He wasn't bitter anymore, watching his younger brother play outside, running on strong legs. He watched now with nostalgia if anything else. Osha had brought him some blankets and sat with him, a pail full of potatoes to be peeled. He smiled. It was a strange sight to see a spearwife using her dagger on vegetables.

"He's getting bigger."

At this she smiled. He knew Rickon was her favourite. How could he not be with his wild ferocity. He was now 10 years old with tangles of auburn hair sweeping over his dark eyes. He always had a volatile look to him, never allowing anyone but the wildling woman cut his hair or try to tame his appearance. Lady Catelyn was weary of it but she had often doted on Bran.

Osha looked up from under her lashes and then to the spuds. The smile on her face; fighting to be shown but never quite conquering her stern features.

"He needs a hair cut."

"Did you see the bruise on his forehead. Perhaps you should wait until that leaves before you chop his hair. Mother will not want to see it. She has enough to worry with…"

_With a daughter who was kidnapped, ran away or is dead in the forest_. It didn't need to be said, since she had gone missing two days ago his mother had been sending out ravens to everyone and anyone who might know where she was. She had even forced herself to send a letter to Jon at the wall. But if Jon knew then soon father would know too.

"Ha. That girl is just as wild as her brother. She'll be fine. Too much of the North in her."

Bran had never quite felt so vulnerable unable to hunt her down with the men, like Theon and Robb. But think about the others was easier then thinking about himself. Unconsciously his hand went to Summer. _Something was happening._

Osha looked at him with worry. If she hadn't known about his dreams she would have been outside with her wildling boy, not her cripple.

* * *

Upon entering the tavern Gendry could smell the drink and a thick brown stew. His stomach tightened and he realized he could eat a horse and ask for seconds.

"Hello lovie what can I do for yeh." The woman was a graying old thing with a genuine smile. He was hoping this was a sign that he wouldn't be caught and sent to the wall for being with a northern princess.

"Some food and bed would do." Gendry let out.

The woman walked off to get the food. Gendry followed and asked for two bowls and then went to find a table and that's when Gendry realized Ar- Lady Arya was not with him. He looked around but the space was filling with people. If someone knew whom she was- He didn't want to think of the gruesome details.

_Ahahaha_

He turned to see her standing with a group of men playing dice. She was dangerously close to one of the men, her hip touching the man's shoulder.

He had to intervene.

"Nym, don't you think we should get some food?" his voice was strained as he fought to keep his voice level and not yell at her in front of everyone.

She looked at him as though he was a stranger and that about did it. Then she frowned and sighed, moving away from the men.

"Aw where you going?" whined one of the men. Gendry just glared him down. If they could get through this he would be a happy man.

He offered her the bowl and they went to a table in the corner of the tavern, dimly lit. Arya slumped into the bench and looked at her food. He was too hungry to notice that she wasn't eating. He shouldn't really care but, it's not like he couldn't worry. She was the fucking princess of Winterfell.

"Why aren't you eating?"

…

She mumbled something and took the spoon, making spiral designs in the stew. She had pretty little hands. They looked soft and dainty- his hands hand never looked like that. She got up and walked to the bar of sorts. Gendry just ate in stormy silence. He had not realized how difficult it would be to travel with her. She had assured him it wouldn't.

Gendry tried to listened to the music in the background or the girls' giggling and whispering into some patrons' ears. It only bothered him more.

Looking over to her, he saw one of the men from the group playing dice saunter over to her, drunk as you please. Not difficult my arse!

Perhaps when not intoxicated the man was nice but the way he was staring at her got Gendry to his feet. Thinking it over maybe he shouldn't have reacted the way he did but she was a girl.

"Leave her be."

The man turned to him in a drunk blur, not fully understanding. He looked at the hand Gendry had put on his shoulder.

"Bugger off."

Gendry looked to Arya and saw her eyes were wide and expecting. He was never really good with his words.

The same could not be said for his strength of his fists. The drunk man had surely realized that as he slammed into the table behind him, grabbing the rim maybe hoping to break his fall but instead landing with a table over him.

There were a few startled cries from the girls that had sat at the table but had got up before they could become involved. The looks he received were of awe, shock and anger- at least from the owner. Gendry looked to Arya how was looking at him too, a crescent smile on her face.

The musician in the back smiled too.

"I think we can gather that none should talk to the Bull's girl."

**...Why you no review? **

**(i will make next chapter ohlaflufffy?)**


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